


Omen: Absolution

by kazred



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Episode Prompto Spoilers, F/M, Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, Omen Trailer (Final Fantasy XV), will add more tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-09-07 23:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazred/pseuds/kazred
Summary: The Voidwalker, a title alone that would strike hope into weary hearts and courage into faltering morale. The girl with the title, however, has more taunting problems than most. She was given a mission by King Regis himself to save his son; even with the imminent fate that awaited Noctis, she was prepared to do whatever it takes as the Voidwalker, even cheating destiny. AU with headcanons, minor twists on Episode Prompto and Ignis with alternate ending.





	1. Void

**Author's Note:**

> AN: After SEnix decided to completely forget that they ever released the Omen trailer, I've taken it into my own hands and write a story based around the concept. It was something that should've been an playable AU but what did we get after 10 years? Exactly.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This story takes place during the events of FFXV with elements from the Omen trailer, few changes to Episode Prompto and Episode Ignis with an ending we all wanted.
> 
> EDIT I: Reveria's magic = Versus XIII Ravus' magic. You're welcome.

{The absence of noise were her distant song.}

She knew he was here, goddammit she could feel his steady heartbeat that echoed through the ominous halls of Zegnautus Keep, but the only thing that was stopping here crushing every single defected MT and ripping every single door from its hinges was the stab wound that bled from her side and underneath her body in a deep crimson. Her brain was shutting down, closing her eyes for just a little while felt like the greatest pleasure, but she didn’t track down Prompto back here for nothing. She wasn’t going to stop because of an injury she could normally shake off. But it was something about this floating fortress that made her abilities uneasy and hard to reach, even for the Voidwalker herself the beyond was nearly silent, just touching the tips of her fingers. 

Baring her teeth she struggled to roll onto her side and had to let out a strangled cry as fiery heat washed through her torso, but she forced herself onto all fours and peeked her head up. She guessed she was lying there for a couple of minutes, but with her head clearing it suddenly felt like half an hour, and the halls were lonely. She just needed one damn MT, just one of those tin can troopers...where was Ardyn’s taunting? Surely Noctis was still here working his way up the Keep and Ardyn must still be trying to shake his morale. Just to be sure, she spoke up.

“I know...you’re there,” she choked, attempting to transfer herself out of her pool of blood to her feet, albeit stumbling just as she found her balance and knocked her back on the closest wall, and her back arched on impact as more agony stung her overworking nerves. “I know you...see me, dammit…”

“Ah, my darling Reveria,” his soft voice, distorted by the white noise undertone of the speakers, called out her name as she glared at her surroundings. “I see you’re awake. Did you have a good sleep? I gated this section just so the bed bugs didn’t bite.”

“How very thoughtful,” Reveria mocked, her hand firmly clamped around her wound. “Don’t think you...can ungate it?”

“And let you walk along and save your friend? Or should I say, boyfriend. I say the two of you have been getting along rather well...almost too well.”

“And what’s it to you?” She panted, looking up at the speaker above her before pushing herself off the wall and finally limping down the corridor. “You sound jealous. Don’t tell me...the Chancellor of Niflheim is jealous. Save it for...someone who actually cares...”

“Spare me your empty humour, Reveria,” he silenced her. “I’ll help you find your dear Prompto, I’ll open every door that will lead you to him. But in return,” She was just about to press her palm in defeat on the wall until it slid aside and her instincts made her leap back in defense, the awkward swing of the rouge magitek trooper so very close to hacking off her right arm. “You follow my rules. Now now, be a good dear and surrender yourself to death.”

That was it. She smirked underneath her pain and simply said, “I am death.” With all the strength she gathered Reveria summoned a floating sword that sliced through the trooper’s wielding arm, the sword instantly vanishing once it has completed its move, and she blurred through space to latch onto its helmet and slam it as hard as she could into the ground. Of course it died on impact, and her entire right side was on fire, but she was searching for something amongst the thick black smoke that arose from its dematerialising body. Just had to...there. Violet light rippled on her body and she exhaled, getting off her knees and dusting her clothes off. “Surprised?” she smirked, bringing out her arms and opening her palms, and a black and golden hilt appeared in each hand in a shudder of glassy dust. “You should be. Not even my own sister knows I’m capable of what you’ve just witnessed.” The hilts were discarded of in the same shudder and, with the wound very close to nonexistent, she moved.

“I see the dog has learnt some new tricks,” he insulted her, his voice less appeasing and more spiteful, but she didn’t care as she was running her way through Zegnautus Keep and making sure to despatch of any MTs with a deadly swiftness. “Your dear boyfriend isn’t the only one with skeletons in his closet, now is he?”

“You referring to me, sweetheart?” Reveria called out to Ardyn, a massive grin on her face as she kicked a faulty rouge MT, that kept watching her every move out of instinct, out of the way. “I mean, I have nothing to hide. But, being a constant part of the Void, I know you do...I know why you seek Noctis, why you’re driving him to the Crystal. The Bladekeeper himself told me; it’s the reason King Regis gave me the mission in the first place.” Silence. “Yeah. I guess he’s got more than a few, but not so much as a cemetery in yours, Izunia.” He stopped answering her back completely, she knew her words would’ve pulled way too many strings for him to answer, and she wasn’t stupid. Yeah, taking the Crystal meant the imminent destruction of the Old Wall and the invasion of Insomnia that burned the city to a corpse, but she also knew that Ardyn was the Lost King of Lucis. History like that never went unnoticed by the Voidwalker, someone so interconnected to the astralplane with her thoughts etched with the voices of the Draconian and of the Crystal. A shame she couldn’t actually control time, otherwise Prompto, Ignis and Noctis wouldn’t be in this mess, Ardyn wouldn't have existed and the Starscourge wouldn’t have infected Eos.

But there she was, opening a door with the use of a key card she found on her way to the top floor that she summoned between her index and middle finger, and held her breath to brace her will for what she was about to confront in this room. She exhaled, _ please be in here Prom, please be in here, please... _Reveria rushed towards him in a bout of desperate relief, tears she never knew were there falling down her bruised cheeks as she embraced his hanging body, suspended by a metal contraption. “Prompto, hey Prom..” she whispered, shaking his head lightly. “Prom, it’s me. Prom, it’s Rev...please open your eyes…” And he did, eventually, but it wasn’t the look she was expecting. The usual smiling ball of sunshine had something dark brimming at his crystal hues, so dark that Reveria actually stepped back once in fear. 

“Don’t touch me,” he spoke coldly, disgust in his voice as if he wanted to spit out his words. “I’m sick of hearing your lies. But you can’t trick me Ardyn, not anymore.”

Her face relaxed in shock. Ardyn? Why was he saying Ardyn’s name? No...Ardyn was using his disturbing control over hallucinations to try and break Prompto, break her boyfriend. “No, Prompto, it’s Rev, it’s not Ardyn, look,” she brought her left hand up and gestured to the silver gauntlet, “Remember what this is? Remember why I have it?”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” 

“Prompto, please!” she pleaded, cupping the nape of his neck with both hands again despite his attempt to move away from her. “It's me! Whatever Ardyn has shown you here, it wasn't me. It was never me! I've come to get you out…” When Reveria realised her words weren't reaching his ears she stared straight into his eyes, and her heart began to race. They...they weren't blue anymore, the usual glassy sapphires. They were a blood red, singing with a power she couldn't comprehend. No...he was getting mad. The last time his eyes were like that he…

She didn't think when she met his lips, her initial intention to stop him from getting angry, but as she felt Prompto melt into it she just wanted him to understand she was the real Reveria. The Reveria that trekked how many miles to find him again on Noctis’s request. “I'm sorry,” she muttered against his lips and pulled away to caress his cheeks. “I won't hurt you again, Prom. Now let's get outta here.” 

It was so quick, so sudden she couldn’t stop Ardyn’s hands dragging her by the hair and slamming her into the floor. “Rev!” Prompto screamed, helpless to do anything as he watched, in torment, his girlfriend struggling to clear the fog from her mind but reaching out above her in a blind attempt to grasp her bearings and Ardyn simply looking down at her with amusement curling his lips. “Rev, come on! Get up!”

“A shame her powers were only a slither of hope for you, Prompto,” the Niflheim Chancellor smirked as he kicked Reveria onto her stomach, reopening the wound she barely stitched together by her magic. “Too bad the Crystal reaches far beyond the immediate bloodline.”

“Prom…―to...Noct’s coming...he’ll be―” 

“He _ is _ on his way. On his way to meet his so called friend, born a defected MT. Don’t you think it’s time you used those new-found powers of magitek? I do like a good show.” He casually reached down and plucked the Voidwalker off the floor, setting her on his shoulder even if she was still fighting away her fading strength. “Isn’t Noctis the reason she’s hurt in the first place? If he didn’t send Reveria to you, she wouldn’t have been sent to her demise.” His once aghast eyes relaxed in numb realisation as Ardyn’s words twisted his reality; it...it was Noctis’s fault, if Reveria was still with him then maybe...maybe none of this would’ve happened.

Even as Reveria’s weak cries of disapproval found his ears, his eyes recalled something and like a wave, the crystal hues blended into blood red, bright as stars. 

_ Noctis, _ he thought, _ you killed Reveria. So I kill you. _


	2. Arsenal

{It was never going to be an ordinary day, was it?}

_ So here we are. Fighting off daemons alongside a blonde gunslinger who keeps tripping over gravity, a tanned yet scarred giant who has a temper as scary as his massive blade, a well-spoken gentleman who complains about the depletion of his coffee most of the time and a prince who could warp to nothing but his overflowing ego. That didn’t give it away? Seriously?  _ ** _None_ ** _ of those obvious pointers made you stop, do a 180 and sprint to the nearest haven or Coernix station?  _

_ I mean this had to have started  _ ** _somewhere_ ** _ , right? So where did we go wrong? _

** _Ah,_ ** _ yep. I definitely remember. It all started when I met the prince. Why is this considered a bad thing? You’ll realise why in a moment but let’s start this story not too far back, but not too far forward either.  _

She sat in the waiting room outside, hands firmly gripping the motorbike helmet in her lap, as people dressed in all kinds rushed around the large room. She's never seen this many people here, let alone them hurried to do errands, but what made her more uneasy was her fellow Glaive that escorted her from the Citadel. He was a well-built man, his hood on to conceal his features as he stood at ease beside her, but she already knew who he was as soon as he greeted her downstairs. The girl wasn't sure why she needed one of His Majesty’s soldiers, something about extra security due to the intrusion of private Niflheim spies. I mean, she couldn't blame the King for taking safety measures but, by the way her knuckles were turning red, there was tension in the air that she couldn't ignore. 

Just what the hell was going on? 

She shifted in her seat before looking up at the Glaive, a humorous smirk on her face, “Not going to talk to your former Glaive, Hero? I thought we were on good terms.”

A breathless chuckle resounded from the hood, “As much as a reunion is due, I'm on-duty. Sorry Rissa.”

“Not even going to ask how I've been? I see you're looking better than ever.”

“On. Duty.” The girl informally known as Rissa cocked her brow before leaning forward in her seat, tapping her nails on her helmet in rhythm as the seemingly endless human wave continued to splash around her, until a smile piqued on her face as an idea came to mind. She was grinning by the time she peered up at the Glaive. Of course she got no response, but the quick glance toward her was the response she was gonna take. 

“A shame you’re not as familiar with the Citadel, Nyx...” she spoke as she gently lowered her helmet aside her. “Would’ve made this game of catch a bit more enticing.” Not even a second after the last word and her figure was replaced by a ripple of violet glass, Nyx holding in his sound of disbelief as his body moved on its own to chase after the girl. She was surprisingly faster than he remembered, slipping past people with ease whilst making sure not to cause cosmetic damage to anything, but once she managed to sprint away from the congested hallways Nyx brought out his kukri. 

He threw it, a fuzz of blue and orange displacing his body as his goal was to tackle Rissa onto the ground via warping...but this was a girl who was named the Queen’s Arsenal for a reason and she halted in her tracks just as he blinked back into existence, grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. What he wasn’t expecting was the sudden change of momentum as she steadied her base and pulled him over her hip, meeting the floor slower than she shrugged off his weight. “Word of advice,” she leaned down to meet his surprised eyes and pressed his dagger flat on his chest. “Don’t warp around me: I always know where point b is.”

Before she let him protest, Rissa laughed as she jogged away from him and made sure that his beckoning was finally out of earshot by eventually finding a room to hide herself. What she didn’t realise was the room she stumbled in was a pretty big-ass room, black marble flooring with blue and gold that spilled up the columns and a giant portrait on the right wall expressing the Lucian lore. She was too distracted by the entirety of the room that she flinched when a voice reached her ears, her dark eyes meeting a boy her age with black on his clothes and blue in his eyes that pierced through his long bangs. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said bluntly, tilting his head when he noticed she didn’t respond, and started to walk towards her.

_ And this, aside from our previous meetings, is where everything suddenly goes to hell. A hell where it's nothing but uncomfortable heat rather than raging fires that could melt your skin and boil your blood. Still hell, but you still had a hold of whatever was left of your pride. _

His sway was sort of deviant, unkempt for a prince attempting to display his etiquette and it wasn’t until he was a couple steps in front of her that he stopped in his tracks to lift his head. Even though it had been a while, he looked good and more mellowed out than the first time she was graced by his presence 2 years ago. Good looking if it wasn’t for a dark shadow that seemed to hang over his head, but even then a light slap was all the loving he’d receive if she was ever blessed with the permission to do so. Or a wake-up punch. Probably the latter. “Didn’t you hear me?” he went on. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Noct,” the well-built man behind him spoke up; a booming voice for a strong man, indeed. “Calm down will you? Didn’t your father tell you who was coming in today?”

“He did. But I gotta say, this is definitely not the Queen of Vaeza.”

“No. That young lady in front of you is the Queen’s Arsenal.” 

The Prince of Lucis chuckled as he relayed that nickname, finding it humorous that someone so petite would have such a pompous tag. “I don’t see it,” he shrugged, taking another sharp glance at the girl before walking back to the man, and Rissa smirked as another idea came to mind. Man, she was full of ideas today. Wonder where all this creativity was coming from. 

She started. “If he doesn’t want to believe you, Gladio, then I can show him instead.” She chose her words carefully and guessed right that the royal would stiffen up at the mention of his friend’s name. “Prince Noctis, I take it? My name is Averissa Leonis, the Queen’s Arsenal and your sparring partner if you’re up for it. It’s been awhile since I stretched, Her Majesty likes to protect me a bit too much...even though that’s my job.”

“Rissa, you’re not serious, are you?” 

She stripped off her jacket and tossed it aside, “My words can cut space, of course I’m serious Gladio. Besides, where’s the fun if you’re always beating him?”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, Averissa,” Noctis called forth his Engine Blade with a thought, the weapon appearing as blue light before changing into shades of metal and shards of glass that quickly dispelled from its aura. Gladiolus, understanding the situation playing in front of him, backed away and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He wanted to tell the prince, he really did, but something that glittered in the girl’s eyes made him do otherwise.

Averissa let out a satisfied hum and brought out her left hand, and a word filled the room, “Ragnarok.” The two-sided blade whistled to her grasp in a ripple of red, the futuristic weapon vibrating lowly in her hand. “You can be the Prince of Lucis for all I care,” she told him. “If you can’t match your Shield, then you can’t match the Arsenal.”

_ Pleased to say I kicked his princely ass. For someone who breathes royal, his attitude to combat was sloppy. Always warping all over the place, no thorough tactic to dealing with his foes. Even while Gladio, and then Ignis, trained him there was something missing. And then I realised. _

“Here,” she panted, holding Ragnarok out to a recovering Noctis, both bodies drenched in sweat, muscles burning and hair eventually pulled back. It was almost a year after they sparred together as the Queen’s Arsenal and the Prince of Lucis and they continued to practice in the same training room, blessed with his father’s permission, and the two of them were equally spent. Averissa was struggling to stand and instead glued herself to the floor with her lungs heaving in greedy gasps of air, while Noctis was doubled over respiring just as roughly but at least he was standing to a degree. He peered at her when she called for his attention, lifting a brow when her signature weapon was offered to him. “Take it.”

“Why me? Isn’t it yours?”

“Because I figured...if you’re going to warp...at least warp with impact.” She managed to pull herself off the floor and assumed a loose sitting position. “Every time you warp, all I see is an easier way to travel. It’s handy when you do use it as a mode of transportation, but Lucians can only go as far as your weapon takes you. Be it 10 metres or 1000 metres. So when you use it as a combat strategy, to hit a target...you need to break space.”

“I...I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied with a deep sigh as he rolled his shoulders back and dipped down to help her to her feet. “And I thought Iggy sounded silly when he talked.”

“And if he heard you say that, I’m sure I would never see you again.”

“The worst thing is that you probably wouldn’t. So, Rissa, explain. And in English if you don’t mind.”

“Warping can be seen as archery, can it not? Every arrow you fire from your bow all depends on the archer and their environment. Wind speed, angle of trajectory, elastic resistance of the string, they’re all factors. Same way your connectedness to your weapon acts as a conduit for your warping. So,” Averissa waved her hand and a massive target board shimmered to view at the far end of the room and with words that danced, a mechanical bow pulsed violet in her grasp and Noctis made a fascinated sound when she roughly pulled her vanilla bangs back and aimed for the target.

“Wait, but where’s your―” He cut his sentence short when he watched her pull back the middle of the string and an arrow of neon blue digitised between her fingers.

“If I fire with little resistance, even if I make my target, there’s little impact.” She released her arrow and let it fly directly to the bullseye, and the target shuddered on contact but that was all. Then she summoned a neon arrow once again and latched onto the nocking point tighter, pulling the string so far back Noctis was afraid she’d lose her damn arm but he didn’t say anything. “But, if I focus my strength onto a single point…” The projectile tore through the air and slammed into the target, Averissa lowering her bow as it made a shockwave and the force cracked the board. “You get this.”

“You make it seem easy,” Noctis scowled as she banished her weapon. 

“It will be if I give you Ragnarok, it enhances the magic power of its wielder meaning warp strikes carry more weight. You warp more than I do. Exceedingly more than I do. It’s the trademark of the Lucian bloodline.”

“But…” he hesitated, understanding that Ragnarok was Averissa’ favoured weapon of choice; it was the one she would start and finish with in most sparring matches. It was a mysterious blade, sometimes it would sing so loud his concentration would waver and other times it would be unnaturally silent that the Queen’s Arsenal would be just as quiet. Not to mention her own abilities were unheard of in Lucis. A girl his age with power than can tear the world asunder by finding silence underneath the noise was a scary thought. “What about you?”

“It has no use where I’m going.”

“Where are you going?”

“That’s...that’s classified.”

“Classified, my ass.”

“I’m sorry Noct, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you. If I did your father would punish me.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were running errands for my dad now.”

“Averissa’s running errands on your behalf,” an accented voice cut off their imminent argument and they both turned to a smartly-dressed Ignis, holding what seemed like a letter in his gloved hand. “Your father offered someone of similar skill, but Averissa here insisted that she'll do it.”

“What is it?” the prince asked, sharper this time, and Averissa glanced at him.

“It's to help aid the eternal bond of you and Lady Lunafreya. I can say that much.”

“That means―”

She held up her hand to silence him, “Ah, ah. Whatever you're thinking, you're probably right. I know it's quite a while until that day comes but...I want the wedding to be absolutely perfect. We don't need Niflheim breathing down your neck, or anyone else’s for that matter.”

“That we can agree on.” 

“So, are you taking Ragnarok or not?” she snapped back this time, the weapon whistling to her grasp at the mention of its name, and Noctis studied her expression. She looked serious enough but her having her bottom lip pulled taut between her teeth said otherwise. If anything, she looked...nervous. 

He sighed, “Would you feel better if I did?”

“Immensely. If we can't meet like this, carry a piece of me with you instead.” He glanced at the weapon for a moment before reaching out and curling his hand around the hilt of the blade, letting out a sound of surprise as it was lighter than he would’ve imagined. “By right, Ragnarok has been passed down to you...I hope you handle him well.”

“Wait,  _ him _ ?”

“Ragnarok isn’t a person but he always listens, always obeys. You should try and talk to him, I think he’ll be thrilled to find his wielder is the Prince of Lucis.” Noctis smirked and stored Ragnarok into his interdimensional arsenal with a fancy glimmer and Averissa tilted her head at Ignis, “I was supposed to be a princess, you know.”

Ignis blinked, “That’s something I was never informed of.”

“I never told anyone, I promised Cor that I wouldn’t. I’m not a lover of the meetings and the reports and the etiquette―”

“Even though you speak so formally,” Noctis cut in with a sarcastic look.

“I was raised as Lady Averissa but decided to become something better than some noble in a dress. With the powers that I have, I didn’t want to be locked away in an ivory tower watching as the nation that accepted a half-breed to be their shield. If I am able to fight...that’s exactly what I’ll do. Even if it means you hating me for the rest of your life. Even if it means not being able to see you again. Even if it means my life. From this moment on, my mission is centred around you, Noctis, so all I need you to do is fight.” Silence choked the room as she stared at him, unable to read what was behind his eyes but could feel the festering emotions in his heart. “If there are no more words to be said, my campaign must be initiated as soon as possible.”

“So you can’t even stay the night?”

“No...I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Then prove it. Prove to me you’re exactly what you’re meant to be; the Queen’s Arsenal.”

She hesitated in his presence and gradually found the strength to walk away from him, thankfully taking the letter Ignis had in his grip, “I’ll make sure I live long enough to be yours, prince.”


	3. Kingsglaive

{For hearth and home.}

The impatient tapping of her foot on the dark marble flooring echoed through the corridor as Averissa struggled with holding her sanity in one piece. She didn't like this. She didn't like this one bit. Unlike the rest of the Kingsglaive that deployed on account of Nyx's discovery of Lady Lunafreya's whereabouts, she stayed put as an ominous feeling weighed heavy on her leather shoulders and she tightened her scarf just a tad. With everything that was going on, Lucis actually agreeing to sign a peace treaty with Niflheim, Noctis on his way to Altissia completely unaware of what was happening in Insomnia and Lunafreya apparently kidnapped by the magitek empire, Averissa decided to try and at least ease her thoughts as she walked to the window overlooking the Citadel.

"Damn. I could really use you right now," she mumbled to herself, bringing a hand up to run away a numb headache from her temple and let out a long exhale. Fixing her parted bangs, her gaze was kept on the cheering sea below as she focused her hearing on the roar of engines in her left ear: Niflheim airships. So Nyx was right then. She brought her hand up for a moment, "Hey, Hero. Try and stay alive, will ya? Can't heal you from out there even if I wanted to."

"...huh. Same to you, Rissa," his gruff voice encouraged her, even if it was slightly. "Try and keep the Niffs anywhere but the registry, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Come back safe and I might even pick up a tab," she chuckled, moving her hand to disconnect the line and she smiled at the sudden warmth that spread throughout her chest; it wasn't easy being so lighthearted in such an intense situation but Nyx really did know how to break the ice. But even with his comforting words, the air felt heavy with tension and Averissa tapped the hilt of her katana resting peacefully in the sheathe on her lower back, the dark blade humming ever so quietly. She promised the king she wouldn't use her abilities to connect to the Void, but the more she tried to ignore the humming the louder it grew. They were beckoning her destruction. "Please," she whispered whilst peering at the sculpted horizon. "Just a little longer. The future will be changed, as long as I can help it...just hope that―"

A thunderous boom blasted throughout the royal building, the tremors violent enough to throw Averissa into the window and onto one knee, and the Crownsguard by the door of the registry stumbled in their place before almost instantly running towards the direction of the explosion. What...what was happening? The Glaive found her balance but realised something and stared out the window, watching the people of Lucis flee for their lives as magitek rained from the sky. But it wasn't the tin can troopers that froze her blood, no. When she looked up at the sky she held in her gasp. The Old Wall. The Old Wall was gone, falling, shattered to glittery blue pieces that looked as if azure stars were falling from its place in the sky. This wasn't happening. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Then she felt it. In the Void, the Crystal...the Crystal was screaming, thrumming against her fingertips with a force she couldn't comprehend.

This was bad.

Averissa spun on her heels and sprinted to the black registry doors but staggered back as the doors burst open, meeting eyes with the High Commander of Niflheim for a second. He stopped in his tracks, uncaring if Iedolas looked back at him and continued on his way out of the Citadel with the rest of the Niflheim ministers waddling behind him, and tilted his head as if trying to find something in her eyes. When he did, he spoke, "Averissa?"

"Not anymore." Averissa drew her blade and flung it into the interior of the registry, quickly saluting the man in white before meeting her blade in a warp-strike against an MT firing at glassy shields, spun in the air before recovering off the floor and firing an ice-infused lightning spell at the rest of the magitek troopers. Shaking the burning sensation out her left hand, she heard the barriers shatter and peered at King Regis and Clarus subtly surprised faces but didn't have the time to take in all the glory as she rushed to attend to the wounded.

"I thought you left, Leonis."

She smirked as she reached down to a dying minister and waved a hand in the air, a golden sigil shuddering underneath their body, "And I thought you knew me better than to leave, Your Highness. Can't send your swords out and expect to fight without one." Then she looked around and saw other Lucian figures barely holding the tethers of their lives together and stood from her place, summoning their own golden heals underneath their frames. "Can't believe, after all of this, that Niflheim would still...that Ravus would…"

"We must escape while we can." Clarus's worried voice attempted to coo the King away from the disarray but the latter man tilted his head towards the cracked, stained glass where the MTs had fallen through and interrupted the unforeseen signing and Averissa did the same. Her brows furrowed; he's coming.

"No Clarus," Regis replied. "I fear escape is no longer an option." Just as he finished speaking, a whooshing sound filled the room upon the knight's arrival, General Glauca sinking into the room with enough weight to lower his stance but not enough to splinter the floor underneath his metal feet. As he made his entrance facing away from the King, he turned in his place and silently watched as Regis, Clarus and two other ministers huddled together, swords in hand. The recovered who fell to the hands of Niflheim scurried out of the registry, the pain still wracking their bodies but the healing of Averissa enough to get them moving as far as possible. "General Glauca."

"It's been a long time since I've fought by your side, old friend," Claus piped up, catching a glance at his king before fixing them upon the knight before them.

"Yes, but this time it's not your fight," Regis countered, "If you wish to leave, go now."

"And abandon my king? I think not. Besides, our magic is bound to you. If you fall, Lucis falls."

"Then let us once more into the fray, old friend." A fuzz of blue and orange materialised in front of the small regiment, Averissa into a kneeling position with her free hand flat against the light marble flooring and the other curled tight around the hilt of her blade. Now, the Void was eerily quiet, as if waiting for her next move but they already knew. They were familiar to the tune of her heart, beating fast but beating quiet. "Leonis? You're not to fight this battle."

She raised her head so that she could blankly gaze onto the helmet of General Glauca, and flicked her thumb against the guard of the blade. "As long as I'm a Glaive, as long as there are those who oppose my king...it will always be my battle."


	4. Lestallum

{In the silence, there she stood tall.}

His thoughts seemed to have fallen to a familiar face as he slowly woke up from his nap, a soft frown on his face as his senses gradually heightened to normal. Letting out a groan he shuffled in his seat before finally sitting up a bit straighter, catching the attention of Ignis whose eyes he met through the windshield of the Regalia. "Alas, Your Highness is awake," his accented voice pulled the attention of the other person that leaned against the frame of the vehicle.

"That tired, huh, buddy?" Prompto sounded just after, turning to the prince with a warm smile on his face before twisting back to face away from him, and Noctis rolled his shoulders to release the pent-up tension. His mouth opened to comment to Gladiolus, but realised The Shield's place in the back seat was unoccupied; something about him needing to do something important reduced the party to three. It was empty without him around, considering the three did have to take some mythril ore in Steyliff Grove and fight a rather persistent Quetzalcoatl that took up the vast lower floor―at least the formidable Aranea Highwind gave them a hand where they couldn't.

"Rise and shine, Your Highness, we're here." Speak of the devil. As they did complete the task of finding the ore together, Aranea used all in her power―some in her power, Ardyn was the rest of her power―to drop them off in Lestallum. Noctis grunted as he was forced to submit to reality and lazily fixed his bangs into place before setting his eyes on the Dragoon, the shutters to the Niflheim airship opening its jaws and breathing in the humid air that was trademark of this town.

"Sounds like a spot of trouble's popped up at the powerplant," she piqued, although let out a sound of feigned interest as she turned in her place to face the trio. "Wish I could help, but I'm powerless to do anything I'm not ordered to. I'll leave the keeping of the peace to you."

Ignis answered before Noctis could, "Of course."

"We got this." Prompto followed behind him as he climbed into the car once they realised the airship was descending into the parking area in front of Lestallum, Ignis starting the Regalia but keeping the handbrake on―falling out whilst the airship hasn't landed would be terrible in these circumstances. Would rather break their ego than break their necks. Upon secure landing, and with an alarm signalling safe internal maneuvering, Aranea had bid them good luck on their next mission as the sleek vehicle rolled out into the open air, the sheet of black that stretched across the sky foretelling them of the trouble that awaited them.

Well, awaited Noctis.

Only a mere hour had passed since their arrival in Lestallum and Noctis was dressed dapper in a puffy thermal suit, with Prompto whistling playfully at the unusual sense of style on royal flesh. "Looking good, Noct."

The prince grunted in displeasure, "Why aren't you in one?"

"Because there was only one suit," Ignis clarified if not with a faint smirk on his face. "And if there is trouble, I'm sure you have the better chance of clearing it quickly. Forget about fashion and go." As reluctant as he was for anyone to see him wearing it, at least his face was covered enough that his identity was hidden from looking eyes, so with a defeated sigh he skipped over the safety barrier and jogged in the direction of the powerplant. Halfway across the bridge, a voice spoke up in his earpiece, Holly's voice, but his mind wandered too far to pick up every detail. He did, however, catch the part where another Hunter was waiting for him outside the plant as this wasn't a job for one, despite the confidence in his abilities.

"Got it," he replied and slowed his pace when he saw the Hunter sitting cross-legged on the few steps that led to the entrance, a somewhat bored posture that changed once they saw him. They hopped up and waited when Noctis was a couple of feet away from them to cross their arms. What was it with this Hunter that got them so…

"You must be my backup," they said and Noctis rose a brow underneath the suit when he picked up their lighter chords; definitely a female. Could be a female. He wasn't sure. Their voice had a husky tinge that it threw him off. "Something about daemons infesting the plant. I've been waiting for you."

"I thought we were partners…" he trailed off when they took the lead and entered EXINERIS.

"We are. Holly asked for some Hunters but I was the only one on standby in the area. Good thing I have you."

"Wait a sec. You sound familiar."

"Why does everyone say that?" If they were left to walk in without the thermal suits, the heat would've most likely killed them first, if not the radiation. It was sweltering that the air was still thick enough to press lightly on their shoulders, but all was forgotten when they crossed the bridge that led to the generators; dark pools grew on the grated flooring, birthing several mischievous goblins at once. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Noctis chuckled, "You don't have to tell me that." His mind cleared and he summoned daggers with a glassy hue, instantly throwing both in quick succession at once before warping to his target and serving a missile dropkick. He would've heard a pleased hum from his fellow Hunter if he wasn't so intent on dispatching of these daemons as quick as possible, but he suddenly called for them. A bad habit he'd formed when he'd call his brothers to deliver their combat techniques. "Hunter, ah..urm…"

"Understood," and they backflipped away from a clawed swing before a red sigil appeared under their feet in a shimmer of glass, Noctis watching in shock and fascination as they launched themselves into the air and gracefully, silently, called for their weapon of choice. A crimson bow of light digitised in their gloved grip and they had fired at every single opponent before landing, a click of their fingers igniting a catalyst that blew the goblins apart. He was too distracted to realise the next wave of goblins that rose through the floor, and the Hunter stepped back before calling for a spear that almost instantly tore through the air to impale the few daemons behind Noctis. "_Six,_ must you continue to watch me? Keep it together, or you'll be torn apart."

"Wow, that was some magic," Noctis praised them, accessing his interdimensional arsenal and swinging with his Engine Blade, cutting down two more goblins at once. "You'd make a great sparring partner with those skills."

"And you could use some more practice," they casually commented as they followed up Noctis's attack with a strike of their own. "When we leave, we should plan an actual match. I like my odds." The prince spun on his heels just as the Hunter delivered a stun attack on an unsuspecting daemon and grasped at the air, letting off a sonic boom from his Noiseblaster with force that threw off his balance. Unable to step back in time, he spoke a word of thanks as the ambiguous figure caught him from behind and pushed him onto his feet. "Yes, I definitely like my odds."

Noctis prepared a comeback to their snarky comment when another voice, and a warning siren, called for their attention, "Red alert, you two. We're detecting a major power surge. She's gonna blow. Abort the mission and get outta there!"

"I'm afraid we're not leaving, Holly," the Hunter told her. "I'm not one to run from half-finished tasks, and I believe my partner isn't either."

"Are you crazy? You can't control the powerplant, I'm telling the both of you to leave. Now!"

The Hunter chuckled lowly underneath their suit and turned their head to Noctis, who had his sight fixed on them. The third wave of goblins began to spew from their portals and accompanying them was a Garchimacera, a much more evolved variant of the daemon, and the Hunter rolled their shoulders back. "Give us one minute."

"And you better time us," Noctis added, summoning his signature blade once again and warping beside the Hunter. "Any plans?"

"Rather, an enhancement." The Hunter signalled their hand and a white sigil shuddered underneath their feet and the Lucian Prince stared in astonishment as his weapon was coated in a light hue, the arcane that was cast humming between his gloved fingers. "They are daemons, so casting light on your blade should help. Of course these ones are incredibly susceptible to fire, but it would be foolish to add to the heat. I'll cool down the plant, you deal with the last wave." Noctis needed to say no more as he warp-struck a clueless goblin, swiping wide and dispatching of another with little effort. It wasn't until the Garchimacera leapt to him without warning and knocked him off his feet that the Hunter reacted quickly; two blades whistled to their grasp and they threw both one after the other, giving Noctis time to recover and land a critical hit while it was staggered.

"Thanks," Noctis called out before leaving the Hunter's line of sight and, with a soft sigh, they faced the centre generator and raised their hands. A single word was whispered and the siren that screamed in their ears abruptly stopped and the hand that was raised glowed a hot red before quickly fading. The singing of blades caught his attention and the Hunter turned to witness Noctis slam down on what they presumed was the last goblin with a dragoon lance, the force apparent by the shockwave it expelled on impact. Banishing the polearm, Noctis called out to them, "Is that all of them?"

"Unless you missed a few," the Hunter cocked their head, "That should be it."

"Nice job. You didn't disappoint."

"You weren't so slouch yourself. It's best we get out of here, though. I'm starting to get hot in this suit." Noctis smiled at the Hunter's remark and led the way back out, where they were welcomed by the cool evening air of Lestallum, but not without whispering something that rid the thermal suits of radiation. As they walked across the bridge, the Hunter realised Noctis's awkward silence and tried to spur a conversation. "I hear you are to travel to Altissia, Noctis. May I ask why?"

Noctis frowned when the Hunter spoke of his name and sped up his pace, "If you know who I am, wouldn't you know why?"

"I do. I'm asking on behalf of another Hunter."

"Another?"

"Yes," the ambiguous figure nodded their head and halted in their tracks, forcing Noctis to also stop and look back at them. "They wanted to make sure it was really you. They are arriving from Insomnia but their condition is..." The prince tilted his head in confusion, their ambiguous quips melting into a haze in his mind until they rushed past him, "She's in trouble."

"She?"

"I'm truly sorry, Prince, but she needs me." And the air whoosed in the space the Hunter vacated, their aura leaving behind glazzy shimmers that gently impacted the concrete. Noctis stepped back in his place, a slot in his astral arsenal suddenly missing and lonely. Normally when he stored weapons, they were always available to use if he needed them. Now this particular weapon, a sword to be exact, was gone. Forgotten. Void.

Void.

His legs moved him towards the gate separating the bridge from Lestallum, Ignis's glad expression glowering into one of concern as Noctis hopped the gate in one swoop and fought against the zip to his thermal suit. "Noct, what's wrong?" the accented man asked, aiding the Prince with the zip and peeling him out of the protective garment just as Holly walked over to deliver the ore they so rightfully needed to complete the trip.

"Ragnarok's missing."

"Missing? What d'you mean missing?" Prompto chimed in, although chimed was a better way to describe his shaken posture.

"It's gone. I know it's gone. It's―" A pulse, within the interdimensional plane. A strong one, a raging one. A fighting one.

Ragnarok.


	5. Fall

{May the Gods forgive me.}

What was thought unimaginable folded into reality itself, the Old Wall shattered as the Crystal was stolen from its rightful place in Lucis and Niflheim ships raining metal hell from the skies. Pedestrians fled for their lives or met their distorted fate by machine guns and flamethrowers; with almost all the Kingsglaive rushing back to the Citadel, that left only one to do their best to protect the king. Averissa Leonis. Of course, getting rid of the MTs that interrupted the signing in the registry was a simple task but fending off General Glauca, a grand manipulator in this theatrical play, wasn’t as easy. Using the king’s magic rather than her own was daunting, especially as her own was calling her, beckoning her destruction, but with the Ring of the Lucii humming louder than her own abilities it made her an easy target. If she didn’t act fast enough, she might have suffered a fate similar to Clarus, poor man, but a couple of cracked ribs were enough to kick her out of the fight. Then Ravus, a witness to the entire spectacle, fell victim to the royal’s consequence, for those who were not deemed worthy were set alight and left to burn. 

If it wasn’t for Nyx running in with Lunafreya, Averissa didn’t think she’d escape. Not this particular her, anyway. With Regis blasting lightning at Glauca, Hero warped into the elevator and staggered at the over-balance, the princess tapping the last button on the panel that closed the doors. Nothing but heavy panting for a moment.

The four of them stand there in somewhat uncomfortable silence, Nyx’s body sizzling at the overexertion of Lucian magic, Averissa keeping an arm wrapped protectively under her breasts while she kept her weight on the elevator wall but then Lunafreya moved, tucking Regis’ cane under her arm and reached down to tear a piece of her dress. Averissa frowned, such a nice dress. While she tended to the king’s injury, he decided to break the silence. “This leads to a hidden passageway. Follow it. Once you are away, make for Altissia. Noctis awaits you there.”

Lunafreya faltered as she looked at Regis, handing the embellished cane back to its owner, “Your Majesty…”

“You knew this was coming―” Nyx suddenly spoke up, the Glaive beside him flinching at his little explosion. Whoa, she knew Nyx had a rebellious streak but to get mad, at the king no less. But he had every right to be mad, because she knew too.

“Yes,” Regis cut in. “But it was the only way to draw their wrath from Noctis.”

“Is that the way of our king? Sacrifice Lucian sons to save his own?”

Averissa had to involve herself and peered at her fellow comrade, “Nyx, calm down―”

“To save the world,” Lunafreya spoke, her crystal eyes gazing on Nyx. 

“See Luna safely to Altissia,” Regis countered softly. “This is not an order from a king to his Glaive. This is a plea from one man to another. Please, Nyx Ulric, keep her safe. For the future of all.”

“The future?” Just as Nyx questioned His Majesty’s choice of words, the elevator quaked momentarily and that meant only one thing: Glauca had managed to break through the door held shut by Lucian arcana. Averissa glanced up at the ceiling, hoping the sigils she put there would slow him down even if it was just a little.

“Here.” She blinked back to reality and watched as Regis handed the Ring of the Lucii to Lunafreya, who accepted the ring in both hands, one cupped underneath the other. “Take this. It is time is passed to another’s keeping.” She inspected the piece of jewelry, the ring that could change the tide of history as they knew it, and gently closed her palms. The words she’d conjured were dismissed as the elevator doors opened before them and Rissa pulled herself off the wall before limping out first, with Lunafreya following behind and Nyx and Regis the last to leave. 

The elevator had led them to an underground tomb with gorgeous mosaic spotting the linoleum flooring in black and white, engraved columns of the previous royals and detailed paintings of yore. Nyx took it upon himself to aid Averissa as he caught her in mid-stumble, a low ‘thanks’ putting a smirk on his face and the princess held tight onto Regis’ hand, hoping to rush him through the passage and out of the city. It was an unspoken plan that all three members of the party knew. Then he let go, stopping in the centre of the tomb. Lunafreya, out of realisation, halted in her heeled tracks and turned to face Regis, catching the attention of the Glaives who also stopped moving.

Nothing is said; Luna searched the king’s eyes for something, anything to answer why he stopped moving. And he did. He outstretched his unscathed hand and a pearlescent light pierced from his palm, the sound of glass shattering to be reformed bringing to light exactly what he was doing. Luna was the first to rush towards the building barricade, pressing against the glassy surface but to no avail. “No, please. Stop!”

“Regis!” Averissa hobbled after her, collapsing onto her knees out of fatigue and placed her palm on the barricade. 

Nyx dashed after the princess, holding one of her arms and pulling her back but not without feeling her continue to press forward, “Get back.”

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t leave us.”

“I know your mother would wish the same as me,” Regis started. “That you and Noctis live happily. All those years captive because I failed you. Not again. Locked doors will seal your fate no longer.”

“King Regis…” Rumbling echoed throughout the tomb that seemed to get louder and louder, the elevator quaking at the beastly presence that descended with fervor.

“Our hope goes with you now, Nyx Ulric. Godspeed.” Nyx nodded once before having to drag Luna away from what was about to happen but Averissa stayed where she was, breathing heavily as the pain washed through her entire chest. The Void listened closely and her breathing stabilised, and she clambered onto her feet before beating hard against the glassy wall.

“Please,” Averissa pleaded. “I’m begging you! This wasn’t my mission! You didn’t entrust me to―”

Regis held out a hand, a warm expression on his face, “Fear not, child. Even under your circumstances you’ve grown exceptionally. Your father would’ve been proud of you.” After a moment of serene silence the metal knight finally smashed his way through and sunk into the room again, Regis turning around to meet his presence. Bowing forward with a hand fisted against his chest and drawing a line across the floor with his blade, Glauca tilted his metallic gaze as the king tossed his dark cane aside. “But this is no longer your fight.”

The clattering was enough for Luna to spin on her heels, widening her eyes at the sight of Glauca and Regis engaging in another battle, an unbalanced battle, a battle already decided. The knight brought his greatsword up so that it was parallel to his chest and charged, Regis bringing up his bandaged hand and striking him with a lightning spell. The lightning cracked and burned but Glauca continued to charge forward and Regis continued to assault him with his spells, burning metal and flesh filling the room the longer they pressed on. But with the pressure of the Old Wall still rotting his core Regis weakened ever so slightly but it was enough for Glauca to cower above him, nothing but lightning separating the two of them.

“Behold the King of Lucis,” Glauca began his taunting, “Who hoarded tranquility within his precious walls. Where is your tranquility now, king? Here is your peace―”

“No!” 

“By steel’s swift descent.” Glauca wadded off Regis’s attacking hand with a heavy swipe, the force causing both the king and the knight to stumble around so their backs were facing each other, and Luna ran up to the barricade, her breath caught in her throat. A moment was all it took for the greatsword to lunge into Regis’ chest, crimson spraying onto the barricade and the intense rush of agony causing him to lean over the blade.

Luna leaned into Nyx, hiding her face away from the bloody spectacle before her and he tightened his fist, nothing but rage causing it to tremble. Glauca let out a victory call and pushed the blade in further, Regis choking on the blood that dribbled past his lips and his hands find purchase on the weapon that has been speared through him. Using it as leverage, his muscles quiver as he looked up into Luna’s terrified eyes.

“Go...” he croaked out, reaching out his hand in aid, in dismissal, they weren’t sure but Glauca was as swift as his blade being yanked from the king’s chest cavity and then being as brutal by shoving the body onto the floor. There was a moment of silence with all three pairs of eyes having the memory etching painfully into their minds; Luna glanced back at Nyx and reached down to hold his wielding hand, shaking with rage. What they weren’t aware of was the lonely figure who stood eerily still, bloody hand still pressed against the slowly dissipating barrier still warm underneath her touch, her eyes blank as they fell from the metal knight to Regis’s corpse a gaping hole where his loving heart should be. Averissa stepped back only once and the world fell still.

The Void was now completely silent for she was the reason behind the noise.

A violent scream tore through the air and a blur replaced Averissa’s space, Glauca grunting as it slammed into him and threw him back into the destroyed elevator, and Nyx widened his eyes. Heaved over, violet smoke accumulated off her healing, leather frame, her occupied hand crushing what looked like a tiny crystal into dust between her fingertips and the colour of her hair blended into another like a wave. She straightened gradually, her eyes sharp and boring a hole into Glauca’s chest as her other hand reached behind her and stabilised the barricade, a cool sigh slipping from her lips.

“Rissa?” Nyx calmly called for his comrade and she smirked, summoning a protective sigil that burned white under Regis’s body. The knight groaned and struggled to move from his crater, straining his metal head to look at the person who did it and she felt him ebb ever so slightly. The signature mark on her left cheekbone, the crimson hair and golden eyes said it all.

“My name is not Averissa Leonis but Reveria Vaeiz Inkheart, the Voidwalker―”

“Wait, the Voidwalk―?!”

“But right now Reveria isn’t here. Her body harbours nothing but absolute rage, enough to tear the universe apart.” She looked off her shoulder briefly, “You two go, I’ll hold him off as long as I can.”

“Reveria…” 

“Promise me, Luna. Promise me you’ll find Noctis. Please.” 

The princess bowed her head, “...I promise.” Reveria softened her smirk as he heard Nyx and Luna scuttle out of the tomb and tilted her head at the hovering chunk of useless metal, his greatsword as leverage to finally drag himself out of the crater and she didn’t give him the chance to even twirl his wrist as a flurry of gold-rimmed blades kept him wedged firmly into his crater. The mark by her cheekbone pulsed once; the Bladekeeper’s Sigil.

“Whether you’re an inside man or not, you made a promise to this man you killed. Or am I mistaken, Drautos?”

“So you’re aware of who I am?” his modified reply came out cold and she shrugged.

“I was wondering when you’d turn against the king, against the Kingsglaive. Didn’t think it’d take you over a decade.”

“So he went and called you, a Vaezian?”

“He called me, a distant child of Lucis. I may be a half-breed but I’m pretty sure the Ring of the Lucii would accept me more than they’d accept those flesh and bones you’d call a person. They’ll always accept me, in the Void. I don’t have their magic, but Bahamut thinks of me in a different regard.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“It’s called a decoy. Those blades are light as feathers but wedged into your body are heavy as the sins you and Niflheim carry on your shoulders. You can’t continue to play as two different people, for they will always be one: a man of every consequence.” She turned to peer sadly at her uncle’s body, the protective sigil fading as she flooded strength into her arms to reach down and gently pluck him off the mosaic flooring. She knew the moment that sword plunged into him she couldn’t save him, for that sword was imbued with dark magic capable of snuffing out even the brightest frames. In the Void, she could barely hear Regis but knowing his arrival put her at ease. She let her eyes dance across his features, softened, relaxed, void of worry, suffering. Void of life. “The future has changed, Noctis will save the world and you…” She scoffed. “You have already met your fate.”

“Vaezian dog―”

“Call me what you want. It’s the most you’ll be saying.” A light flashed on her frame and just like that she was standing in the middle of the lobby, hundreds of people either jumping out of the way or halting in their tracks at her sudden arrival, and the final realisation of the events that occured reduced her to her knees. Not even a second passed as orders were thrown around, two people having to pry Reveria’s hands from Regis and three others attending to the king. With the stress of astral magic and her own draining her strength she forced herself to press on, pulling herself away from those arms and shuddering into another area: the parking lot. At least 10 minutes before Glauca had to fight his way out, enough time for a phonecall. Steadying her hands, she reached into her pocket for her phone, almost dropping it once it slipped out her pocket, and hit speed dial. Her lips trembled as her legs moved her to a dark motorbike, muttering silent pleads for the receiver to _ please pick up your phone, please, I’m begging you― _

“Rev, what’s wrong?” Are you okay―” 

She slapped the seat out of remorseful frustration, “Cor, I couldn’t―I couldn’t save the king! I-I failed the mission, Cor! I don’t know―what to do I don’t know what to do, I played right into Niflheim’s stupid hands, why didn’t I see this happening, why didn’t I see this happening! I could’ve stopped this, I couldn’t save my uncle, Cor, I don’t know, I―”

“Rev, I need you to calm down. Calm down, okay?” His words reached her core and she exhaled, although shaky but calming nonetheless. Her tears were blinked away and she rubbed the nape of her neck. “Don’t panic.”

“Okay...okay, I’m trying.”

“You did all you could to protect King Regis, okay? Nobody saw his death coming. You tried all you could to be Averissa and I’m proud of you. Understand your mission hasn’t changed; you still have your older cousin to look after. He’s never seen the real you, hell he doesn’t even know this you exist.”

She breathed, “Noctis…”

“Get out of the city while you still can. I’ll contact you when you reach Lestallum.”

“What about Regis?”

“As it is saddening, a royal’s passing is something the Citadel can handle...I have to go. Be safe, alright? Until then, you’re on your own, kid. Discard your phone, I’ll get you another one.”

Touching the ignition inlet the motorbike roared to life, growling to a low hum just as she swung her leg over and moved her phone from her ear. “Lestallum.” The phone slid from her grasp and a helmet materialised around her head, metal and plastic shrouding her identity in darkness but she didn’t move without slightly shaking her head.

“May the Gods forgive me.”

_ King Regis was a knowing man, a cunning man, a loving man. As a king, he ruled with an iron fist and a golden heart. As an uncle, he taught me things I never knew about. About my beginnings; my father, my city, my magic. Why the astrals accept me so easily, why the Crystal is soothed by the rhythm of my sound. I trusted King Regis. But not enough to get him killed. _

_ It will always be a sin that I carry. Saving Regis would mean Noctis’ downfall. I knew that Regis wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if I saved him. His son is the Chosen One, the astrals await his ascension. My mission: ensure that he reaches the Crystal. _

_ Whatever it takes. _


	6. Composition

{The song of a blade, the orchestra of a thousand.}

Fast. Fast. Faster. The muffled sound of the engine roaring underneath her wasn’t enough to quieten her thoughts. There were too many swelling inside her mind with what ifs. What if she stopped Captain Glauca? What if she was guarding the Crystal? What if she was on the decoy ships? What if she wore the Ring of the Lucii? What if she wasn’t in the Kingsglaive at all? Her grip tightened on the handlebars. No, no, not now. The thoughts were poisoning her confidence and she bared her teeth in an effort to drain them out with the engine. 

“Damn,” Reveria cursed underneath her breath as she smoothly tilted her bike in the road’s long bend, the distant glow of warm lighting greeting her at the horizon. Lestallum, the warmest city in Cleigne and a refreshing retreat for those who want to expand their culinary palette. Where her and Cor would meet up to avoid any suspicion and where she eventually bought a place considering she felt better in warmer climates. As of right now, however, she was out of elixirs and her healing spell was slowly becoming undone, faint numbing pain reverberating in her ribcage. 

Just as her bike straightened out and the bridge leading to the town was incoming, a flare caught her vision in her side mirror but before she could do so much as glance behind her a blast threw her off-course. She yelped as she tumbled onto the concrete, bouncing a few times and finally coming to a painful halt on her side, and her mangled bike skidded just behind her. She clutched her ribs, the trauma enough to set her chest on fire and she struggled to pull herself off the floor and whip the helmet off her head. That’s when she saw them, pouring from the metal underbelly of the airship. She inhaled.

They...they followed her. Niflheim actually followed her.

“Ragnarok,” her voice trembled but the Void answered nonetheless and her weapon materialised in front of her in a shimmer of glassy red, his back facing towards her; her shield, her protector. Reveria staggered, overbalanced and fell back, “Please, I...I can’t…”

“You should have called me out in Insomnia.”

“And...take you away from Noctis?” She clambered to her bike and used it as support to push herself upright, “He would―know you’re missing. You’re sentient and pulsing with Lucian magic. I need your help.”

He peered behind him, “Assist?”

“I don’t have much.”

“One will do.”

Reveria panted and managed to outstretch her arm, the air sizzling with foreign arcana as an oversized sigil blinked underneath Ragnarok and slowly rotated in awakening. She spoke, “Equaliser.” The sigil pulsed a shimmery gold and his crimson gaze met her own and in an eyeblink he was warp striking a magitek assassin, his impact letting out a shockwave that threw back the rest of the troopers. She could only marvel for a moment as pain rushed back into her system and she doubled over her toppled bike, mouth open to flush out her silent screams, but she needed to move away from here. 

Away from this.

Her attention was pulled to the opposite end of the tunnel, the exit she couldn’t see but an exit closer if she started moving. Pushing the pain to the back of her mind she stumbled away from the fight, eventually breaking into a hobbling sprint but reducing back into a stumble. She wasn’t moving fast enough and a bullet from an imperial sniper floored her in one shot, straight through her shoulder and her yelp echoed through the tunnel, reaching Ragnarok’s ears.

She felt him stop. “No,” she ordered him through angered tears, “Keep them away from here! They cannot find out that he’s anywhere near here!”

_But Reveria―_

“Please!” It took all of her strength to pull herself back onto her feet, her Kingsglaive uniform completely shredded and weak hands protecting her injuries. So close to Lestallum. So...so close. Roughly wiping her tears away with a leather sleeve she gradually continued on her way, her new wound gravely minimising her movement and making it harder to move altogether. 

_Reveria, my body. It can’t keep up._

“Equaliser: Void. Steel.”

_You don’t have to―_

“Not for me. For Noctis. That’s an order! I don’t care if my body fails me! My mission is your mission! You better not forget that!”

_...as you wish. Thank you._

The street lights flooded into her vision and she let out an audible sound of relief, so close. Finally so close to the city. The agony that wracked throughout her body was starting to catch up with her and her pace became sluggish, her feet dragging against the asphalt with the intent of getting somewhere safe with a stash of elixirs in hand. Where in the hell was Cor when you needed him? He would’ve been helpful and―in the distance, a silhouette. Tall as it was wide, rushing towards her with a hand hovering over their shoulder. 

That technique. Common in many eyes, unique in hers. 

“Gladio…!” His name tumbled out of Reveria’s mouth in a flurry of thankful joy as the last of her strength was used to launch herself at the Shield, who read her movements and caught her in one fell swoop and called for his actual shield to protect the two of them as he knelt down. “Gladio. Thank the Six...oh Six―”

“I gotcha. Let’s get you outta here.”

“Please.” He peered behind him in case there were the rare soldier still aiming to take her out and darted from his place, protectively cradling Reveria as he jogged to the end of the tunnel. The Void mumbled and she spoke of her weapon, Ragnarok fizzing beside Gladiolus with his aura still burning out of overexertion. He mixed Lucian magic with her own and the consequence was taxing to his vessel. Taxing to her. “Ragnarok…”

“I’ll be okay,” he smiled at her despite the pain she could feel from the Void. “Your safety is prio…” His words drained of sound once it reached her ears and the Void heard her panicking heartbeat. It listened and her body relaxed against Gladiolus.

****

Floating.

In a broken sea of time, there she was. Floating in a void, a black hole, seemingly trapped in a dream she cannot leave. Adorned her body was a white, lacy jumpsuit with a train that wrapped itself around her waist and legs. Shards of glass were scattered around her, shards of the memories she couldn’t recall and the memories that haunted her fragile mind. The figures that also floated with her were her allies, her friends that stood by her side. Noctis. Gladio. Ignis. Prompto. Ragnarok. All dressed in dapper suits with dark ribbons that stopped heavenly light from reaching their knowing eyes.

Her peaceful face twitched in remembrance, a face flashing for just a second, and that second alone summoned devastating arcana that burned black and a fearsome light to ignite in her tampered soul.

A mission. She had a mission. She has a mission. Yet here she was, floating in chronostasis. It was just a matter of leaving this void, leaving her slumber to start her campaign. She would have to start slowly, the vessel she was provided was a tricky one to master, so her eyes slowly opened to gaze blankly at the shimmering nothingness that surrounded her. It was glazed over with a fuzzy film, the absence of life rotting her pupils to the core, and her eyelids fluttered momentarily to wake them up. She took in a deep, calming breath and lazily stretched out her hand, her palms glowing red.

_Wake up._

Reveria’s eyes shot open, her vision slowly focusing on the yellowish ceiling of one of the Leville suites and exhaled slowly. The first thing her body registered was pain through her ribs and she hissed as she brought a hand up, noticing the lack of her Kingsglaive jacket. Or whatever remained of it. Her injuries healed completely, possibly with help of an elixir, but the phantom pain still throbbed and ached, and Reveria strained herself to sit up. A shushing sound caught her ears and were accompanied by a pair of gloved hands that appeared from her left, her eyes hazing over to emeralds and glasses. “Ignis…” she muttered as he helped her into a sitting position against the headboard.

“Your injuries were severe,” he told her as he plucked her jacket from the bedside table and handed it back to her, folded and pressed, and she held it against her chest. “Your jacket was almost irreparable...if it wasn’t for Ragnarok. You’ve been asleep for some time; if I’d known you’d recover so fast I would have prepared a light dinner.”

She smiled faintly, “You don’t have to do that, Ignis. You’ve already fixed my jacket. Also, any food you prepare for me is always worth eating.”

“I’ll be sure to make note of that.”

“...does he know?”

Ignis sighed, “Gladio made sure of hiding you on the way here but it would be wise if you tell him the truth. He doesn’t know the real you and I think he would need you as much as you need him.” It was Reveria’s turn to sigh as she hid her face in her jacket, memories of what happened coincidentally flooding back in vivid colour and her grip tightened. Ignis was right, as much as she wanted to keep the fight away from Noctis she was there to witness the Fall of Insomnia. She was sure Niflheim plagued the streets and rotted away what was once life that thrived and blossomed and the Voidwalker couldn’t do nothing but run away instead of run toward the chaos. Some legend, huh. 

Reveria straightened up and swung her legs off the mattress, unfolding her jacket and easing herself into it before strolling to the foot of the bed and putting on her knee-high boots. She turned towards Ignis, “I have to tell him what happened, whether he wants to hear it or not. He probably won’t even listen to me.”

“You’re all he has left. He wouldn’t dare.”

“Anything can change in the space of a few years, Ignis…” she shrugged. “Even me.”

“But only you have the power to change everything. You can at least help ease the pain of Noct’s heart. As someone who shares the same blood as him.” Reveria stared at Ignis, his words cutting deep holes in her chest. Maybe Noctis was still the same Noctis she remembered years ago, or maybe this Noctis was different, but she knew regardless she had to tell him. She had to tell him. She turned on her heels and was about to head out of the room when her attention fell on three figures who entered the room with huge smiles on their faces, that gradually dropped once their eyes were on her. 

She panicked and blinked out of her occupied space, leaving a dusty purple on departure as she appeared on the balcony and hiding away from one face in particular. Her heart was racing, her anxiety suddenly bubbling at her stomach as the one person she wanted to see had a face of shock just before she warped away. “Rissa?” he called out to her but she winced away and tried at an attempt to calm her breathing. “How are you here? I thought you were on a campaign."

“I am…” she responded after a calming exhale washed away most of her anxiety. “I am. Just...a lot of things happened―”

“What, the empire claiming me, my father and Luna dead? You don’t think I know that?” Reveria blinked back at Noctis’ angered tone and stepped forward, Gladio’s casual posture tightening at her sudden reappearance.

“No, no you don’t know. You don’t even know half of what happened. After all this time, all my training, I promised your father that I would protect you, me! It’s part of my mission...but it was the only way.” 

“You’re not making any sense,” Prompto butted in this time. “Noctis was a part of your mission...?”

She tried a glance back at Ignis, who immediately read the expression on her face, and started to walk towards her. “She was given the task by King Regis which highlighted two objectives. One: to protect the prince; and two: to ensure his ascension is successful. In order to do this, she changed her identity and fell into the ranks of the Kingsglaive.” A gloved hand on her shoulder calmed her racing heart but her gaze was casted downwards, afraid to look up into disgusted eyes.

“I agreed to stay with your father when Niflheim made themselves comfortable in Lucis but, knowing they would do such a thing...I couldn’t prevent it. Even when I saw the man who took your father’s life, I―”

“That’s enough!” Noctis’ chilling yell sent a shock throughout the entire room, enough for Prompto to flinch and Gladiolus to look at the prince in surprise. That tone of voice was rare to experience by all the party members, so much so that the Shield let out a sigh and patted Noctis’ shoulder. 

“Noct, calm down. She didn’t mean any harm.”

“Rissa, you―”

“That’s...that’s not my name, Prompto,” she muttered. “Averissa Leonis was a pawn in the mission, it made being a Lucian easier than I thought. And acting as Cor’s daughter was just as simple.” With a word that sang the floor pulsed with arcana, everyone stepped out of the way as she slowly outstretched her arms beside her and with a fuzz of purple, her clothes completely changed. Compared to her Kingsglaive drabs, this attire was a familiar one. There was more leather and straps but her cowl was kept off her head and her left gauntlet hummed with incredible magic; the one thing that trademarked her was the accent colour of royal purple. The colour of Vaeza. 

Noctis’ angered expression changed into one of shock. There was no way, no way she was who he thought she was. After years of building her name in all of Eos and she was standing in front of him, the Chosen King of Lucis. It wasn’t just the clothes that rang a bell, no. It was the mark on her cheekbone now visible to the naked eye, dark red and spanning just underneath her eyelid. At first glance even Ignis would know by this particular characteristic but, judging by the Advisor’s gaze, he already knew. “My name, my real name, is Reveria Vaeiz Inkheart, the Voidwalker...”

“Rev?” Prompto echoed, the nickname sending his thoughts to wander. As soon as he realised, Gladiolus had beat him to it.

“You’re the Voidwalker...you didn’t even have a face. A mystic saviour that fought everyone’s fight. Took your sweet time, didn’t ya?”

Reveria shrugged, “I guess you can say that.” Then she averted her gaze to Noctis, “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Noctis was at a loss for words. The girl standing before him, he thought he would never see again, considering the last time they were together as Reveria and Noctis, and not Averissa and Noctis, was 13 years ago. How he never put two and two together was startling, but her overall persona, even her voice, was not a familiar one considering they were kids. Averissa was the embodiment of Reveria, only with a mixed accent and vanilla hair. He never would’ve thought she’d changed so much, his flesh and blood. Someone that was shy and frail, uncertain of her future, had become a person the entire world knew: the Voidwalker, a dangerous title capable of ripping the universe to shreds with words alone and granted a personal blessing by Bahamut. His younger cousin, the last official tie to his bloodline. “I...I thought you were―”

“Me too. After Cor told me you left for Altissia, I knew I had to come see you again.” She smiled, “I know, I’m so sorry, Noct. You have every right to be mad at me, hell, I would be mad at me.” 

Noctis chuckled once, “You’ve spent most of your life protecting me. Is there a sound reason why I should be mad at you?” Just as Reveria was about to justify his inapparent anger, the lights went out with a loud pop. Instant worry fluttered in everyone’s chests as they turned in darkness and Ragnarok, who was minding his own business, made a confused sound and stood from his place. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Oh no.” The Voidwalker darted to the balcony, having to brace herself on the railing, and watched in fear as the street lights popped one by one and the patrons of the town stopped whatever they were doing to witness such an irregular event. Within moments a chorus of cries stained the Lestallum streets, and she was joined by the Crownsguard behind her. “Shit. They called for reinforcements. Trying to kill me at the tunnel wasn’t enough for them?”

“Niflheim just can’t wait their turn,” Gladiolus scowled, bringing his arm above him and summoning his greatsword, Ignis thinking alike and letting his own daggers materialise in his grasp in a shimmer of blue glass. 

“With no lights, the daemons would be drawn here,” the tall man adjusted his glasses.

“And with so many people…” Prompto trailed off.

“We’ll split into two teams. Gladio and I will head for the plant, we can only assume Holly may need our help. Prompto and Reveria, with Noctis. You are to evacuate the civilians to the city square and have Reveria set up her protective key in the city centre. With the Voidwalker now present, this should be a simple task.”

“Now I’m excited,” she smirked. “We don’t have time to waste. We’ve got minutes at best before daemons start spawning in. Let’s go.” With a voice that rang, Ragnarok whistled into her grasp with a soothing hum and she peered at her blade before stepping up onto the balcony and jumping off. Without a second thought, the band of four followed suit and landed on a large golden sigil that trembled upon impact. 


	7. Remnant

{The silence is deafening, the noise is submissive.}

Reveria placed her palm flat on the residential door, a glimmer of a white sigil rolling underneath her skin and keeping whatever daemons that would try and haunt the innocent family out; terrified out of their minds and unable to leave due to the recent arrival of their newborn. She panted once and peered up as the swift sound caught her attention, Noctis in an aerial battle against a Harpie but the fight had already finished as he landed beside her. “Meet up with Prompto,” he told her, spinning on his heels as a dark, spluttering mass erupted from the ground and spewed out a few Hobgoblins. “I’ll deal with these guys.”

“After everything I did to reunite with you and you’re already leaving me?” she scoffed, throwing Ragnarok up in the air and waving her other hand. “I thought you had a heart, Noct.”

He smirked, “Don’t worry. We’ll have time to talk, but I’m pretty sure Prompto’s gonna need you for the end game.”

“You’re right.” Just as Noctis was about to launch forward to meet his opponents, Reveria’s sword stabbed itself into the concrete and on impact summoned a static, white sigil. “Ragnarok: Sola Key.” Her words reached the Void and the sigil let out a blinding light that staggered the Hobgoblins and reduced them to painful sneering and howling, her weapon transforming into his vessel and taking stance beside the Lucian Prince. “3 minutes, max.”

“Gonna need less time than that, Rev,” Noctis called out to her just before she whispered to herself, the Void shifting her body through space-time until she stumbled into the city square, her body humming violet glass. Before she could even think about her next course of action her arms instinctively reached out to catch Prompto, his little jump-and-fire trick almost costing him an injury he’d whine about for a few hours. Hell, he barely made it into her arms if she didn’t lunge forward to catch him, but the look in his eyes when he turned to thank her was enough for Reveria to let it go. For now.

The city centre.

She jogged towards the mass of people gathering and hoped that this was everyone minus those she sealed in their houses and took a deep breath. The Void listened intently as white sigils shuddered above the crowd, startling a few unsuspecting people, and Reveria closed her eyes as the arcana pulsed and weaved underneath her fingers. It wasn't a tricky spell to complete and she exhaled softly, the white sigils flashing gold before glossing over. "We're done!" She called out to Prompto as she dropped her arms, the Void muttering a word of approval as Noctis joined her side. "Not too shabby, Prince."

"What did I tell you?" Noctis grinned before his serious expression returned. "Where's Gladio and Iggy?"

"Still at the plant so Ragnarok’s gone as backup. Didn't think it would take so long to return the power.”

“But the longer we’re without it, the more daemons are gonna be drawn to the place,” Prompto winced. Reveria reacted to the gunslinger before the Void whined underneath the silence and she narrowed her eyes at the steps leading to the main entrance of Lestallum, a gust of black smoke circling. The smoke bellowed out the same spluttering mass but the puddle was bigger than the rest they’ve dealt with and Noctis widened his eyes as a slender arm wielding a curved sword stretched out of it and he changed weapons instantly, swapping his Engine Blade for a heavier weapon, the Apocalypse. Reveria noticed and smirked.

“Nice sword.”

“Thanks.”

“Won’t get far with warp-striking.”

“It’s weird though,” Prompto commented as he clocked the shade of the kimono that was adorned on the daemon. “It’s different from the others...the colours, they’re...” 

Reveria inhaled. “It’s an Ayakashi, the worst of its kind. We’re running out of time. If we’re even a second late, it’ll slaughter everyone."

"We won't let that happen."

"No, we won't. Prompto, you’re on critical. We’ll try and break the sword. My magic’s not at 100% but if it tries anything funny, I’ll counter.” She looked at Noctis again, “And Noct, swap to Radiant Lance.” Noctis, upon swapping weapons again, was the first to move; he performed a half-spin before releasing the polearm and Reveria read through his moves and summoned sigils in the air to guide him towards the daemon before he even let go, Noctis cocking a brow just as he warped to his weapon. Prompto was next, his firearm appearing in his grasp in blue glass as he ran towards the daemon already preparing to fire. It would take one wrong move for the end. One single miscalculation that would mean the lives of everyone huddled in the city centre. Exceeding her limits would break her Keys but there wasn’t enough time. The Void listened intently.

Just this once.

She strengthened the protective Key hovering over the people before sprinting towards the fight, whispering two words and throwing her arms behind her. A silver sigil shuddered into existence and with it a polearm sporting similar accents to Ragnarok’s original form but in a shade of cerulean. Merely a step behind Noctis, she barely missed the wide swing. The Void was adamant but she hushed it, the usage of a blessing of the Six was pointless for just a battle with a single daemon, her gauntlet humming with raw energy as she spun her polearm and aimed for the hilt of the Ayakashi’s blade. The daemon was faster and stepped back just as she was in reach and Reveria stumbled forward, almost meeting her maker if Noctis didn’t block the attack. He was knocked back into her but she summoned a gold key and Noctis parried swiftly, breaking the daemon’s guard. But then it twirled its blade and Reveria lunged forward.

“Sola Key!” The Ayakashi’s blade was stabbed into the ground, a pool of miasma spilling outwards before a violent flurry of dark blades shot out of the concrete. While Reveria and Noctis were standing in the puddle, the white sigil rotating underneath their boots nulled the attack completely as if it never existed and she felt the daemon hesitate even if it was for a second. Noctis could only stare at his younger cousin as she heaved; so this was the Voidwalker at work. Not even at her best and her magic was incredible to witness, to feel synergising with his own. 

The Void whispered. Reveria widened her eyes. “Shit!” She spun on her heels and threw her polearm towards Prompto, Noctis unable to move fast enough as the daemon dissipated in a cloud of miasma before him. The gunslinger was in the middle of reloading a third time when the polearm was struck into the ground beside him and the smoky haze was above him when the Ayakashi materialised with deadly intent. The curved blade was already aimed for Prompto’s head and his thoughts ran blank, his body unable to move at the sudden fear of dying but the Void granted her wish and she appeared in a fuzz of burning purple, her teeth bared as she blocked the vicious attack with Ragnarok. The blow was devastating, the concrete cracking on impact, and she glared past her attacker. “Noct!”

“On it!” And he warp-struck the unsuspecting daemon from behind with his polearm infused with magic from the key Reveria placed down earlier. The Ayakashi took the blow and countered with a back-kick that crunched into Noctis’ midsection and flung him metres away from the fight. He didn’t move once he tumbled to a stop, the Radiance Lance clattering beside him and Prompto gasped. 

The Void fell quiet. Reveria’s jaw clenched as the mark on her cheekbone suddenly began to glow. 

The Ayakashi stalked backwards with its curved blade over its shoulder, its posture undisturbed, when a pair of familiar swords shuddered into Reveria’s grasp but Prompto couldn’t even do as much as grab her arm when she blurred forward. She struck hard, the daemon staggering back as she worked the blades like a dance. The daemon went for another wide sweep and she aerial-stepped over the blade, bringing the hilts together to form a single blade before channeling holy magic and striking it across the chest. Miasma sprayed out of the deep gash but no wail was heard when it stumbled back, trying to protect its new flesh wound. 

The Void was still. Reveria gathered the silence underneath the noise.

The daemon was thrusted into the air by one of her nameless Keys and Reveria detached the hilts to form two swords but then she let one of them go, the blade floating there unaffected by its weight to pull it down to the centre of Eos. She lowered her stance to the ground and the gauntlet was singing wildly, but she just needed a moment to collect herself. This was a stupid idea, Prompto could easily jump in the fight and take the Ayakashi down with a few bullets but she was far from fighting easy. The Voidwalker can’t even do her fucking mission right.

She scowled. 

Prompto reeled back in shock; he only saw her clothes ruffle in imaginary winds and her hand move position every slightly but that was it. The daemon that was in the air finally dissipated and the gunslinger could breathe a long sigh of relief now that the fight was over but he watched as Reveria struggled to stand, Ragnarok appearing in his vessel to lend Noctis a hand as he slowly recovered from the blow. As he took a step, the city lights flickered back on one by one and cheering channelled through from the city centre. With Noctis attended to, he instead jogged over to Reveria but suddenly lunged forward when her balance rocked her backwards and into his awaiting arms. “Huh,” she chuckled as her body relaxed against Prompto’s, her gauntlet sizzling and letting off a sharp, acidic smell. It was a stark contrast to his much more sweeter smell, and the sensory information took her back in time for a moment; she would’ve blushed if she wasn’t in so much pain. “Thanks...for the assist…”

“What did you do? Why’s your gauntlet...burning?”

“I...got greedy. Ragnarok,” she tried to call out to her weapon. “What happened?”

“Amicitia and Scientia ran into a few daemons on the way but they’ll return any moment now.”

“And Noctis?”

“He’s not used to mixing Lucian magic with yours…” Ragnarok looked back at the twosome. “It’s been so long.”

“When did he...there’s no way. How did he―”

Prompto tried to fall into the discussion, “What? Do you mean...” 

She lifted her crimson gaze to stare into ocean blues, the tension growing as what Noctis managed to do dawning on her, “Bahamut. He mixed our magic to force summon Bahamut.”


End file.
